


Learning to breathe

by evakuality



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 12:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: It’s reckless, stupid.  The dumbest idea Matteo has ever had in his history of extremely dumb ideas.  Run away.  What a way to phrase it, like he’s escaping, like he’s trying to get away from his life.  Like he’s the sort of person who needs to do that.  But David seems to get it; maybe he remembers Matteo’s desire to just get in a car and drive.  His need to just get away.  Or maybe he just feels it too, the cloying deadly drag of being in this place.David agrees to the dumb, stupid reckless scheme, and just like that the pall Sara cast is gone, the thought of her eliminated almost as soon as her presence was.Aka, my take on that clip because I lost all restraint as soon as it appeared.





	1. Matteo

**Author's Note:**

> I had plans and I wasn't going to do this. My plans involved properly researched, properly thoughtful and lengthy fics. Then that clip came along and ... well, plans are made to be broken and I couldn't resist tackling this. So here we are.
> 
> Many appreciative thanks to the people who stepped in to beta for me and cheer me on through self doubts about this new fandom. You're both stars and I love you!!

“Do you want to run away?”

It’s reckless, stupid.  The dumbest idea Matteo has ever had in his history of extremely dumb ideas.   _ Run away. _  What a way to phrase it, like he’s escaping, like he’s trying to get away from his life.  Like he’s the sort of person who needs to do that. But David seems to get it; maybe he remembers Matteo’s desire to just get in a car and drive.  His need to just get away. Or maybe he just feels it too, the cloying deadly drag of being in this place.

David agrees to the dumb, stupid reckless scheme, and just like that the pall Sara cast is gone, the thought of her eliminated almost as soon as her presence was.

There’s a freedom in the escape.  A fluttery delight in being out in the open, flying on a bike.  There’s life here, joy. Pounding through Matteo’s veins, a weightless sensation he hasn’t felt in such a long time it’s hard to believe it’s even real.

“Where are we going?”

David looks at him.  Grins. Moves off again, ahead.  Ahead; daring Matteo to follow.

It’s a challenge and something in Matteo thrills to it.  No-one challenges him, not even himself. But David does.   Matteo can almost feel the barriers he’s kept up for so long disintegrating in the face of David and everything he is and does.  It should be terrifying; it should make Matteo want to run and hide, to pull his protective barriers up around him as high and as tight as he can.  But it’s not. It makes him want to live. To breathe.

When they get there, it’s perfect.  It’s dark. Cold, dirty, broken and abandoned.  It feels like home. Matteo feels like he belongs in the dark, dank underside of life, so this run down broken husk of a building calls to him.  David is the bright; the flash of energy, the speed of light. So of course he’s a challenge; Matteo’s lived so long in the slow slothful pace of a darkened world that this flash threatens to overpower him.  

It’s good that David is also the calming, steadying peace of a beacon, making some sense of the seething, clogged up mess surrounding Matteo.  

David stands, stares.  Challenges but doesn’t push.

That’s enough for Matteo to follow.  Blindly perhaps, but he trusts David. Is that wise?  Maybe not, but it’s the dare, the risk, the sudden way Matteo wants to take that leap.  Some small pieces of the dark inside him start to break down, move apart, shift enough to let the light in.  Shift enough to want to follow the light.

So he does.  Over fences and underground.  Along tunnels and up stairs. Through the dark and into the light.

Matteo can’t help it; he has to touch David in any way he can.  His fingers itch to brush, to caress. The memory of the handshake they shared, of the way David looked at his hands when they did so, is there and getting stronger.  Coming into focus. The meaning behind that look. Without anything from David, without a sign here and now, Matteo can’t do that, can’t touch. Not like that. But his feet can.  It’s an impulse, a spur of the moment thing, to reach out and kick. To make contact in any way.

“Fuck you,” David says, but his voice and his eyes say the opposite.  They say,  _ I know.   _ They say,  _ I get it.  _  The dark spaces inside Matteo shift a little further apart, allow a little more of that light in.

They don’t talk, not really.  It’s not about talking. Everything that needs to be said is said in the gaps in between.  In the whistling, in the running, in the shared smiles, the challenges of an eye. In the way David moves so easily and comfortably in a place he doesn’t know.  In a place that should be difficult to navigate, a dark broken place, an abandoned place. Every motion David makes gives Matteo hope, and every one breaks the darkness inside him apart, the same way David brings light to the building’s darkest spaces.

“Actually we’re underwater in this moment,”  David says. “That means we can’t breath actually.” 

Matteo laughs, giddy.  Hovers, on the edge. So close to letting himself fall into this, so close to breaking apart completely.

“I bet I can hold my breath longer than you.”

David’s implying that it’s only now that they can’t breathe, daring Matteo to just let it go and step outside of his comfort zone.  Daring him to take a breath in and take a chance. No, Matteo thinks, it’s not  _ now _ that he can’t breathe _. _  It’s not now.  It’s never. It’s always underwater for Matteo, a slow drag on his limbs every day; a muffled weighted world surrounding him and cutting him off from everyone and everything.  But David’s here and with him nothing feels quite so opaque, or quite so difficult to wade his way through. 

He takes a breath in, holds it, lets David lead him in this game.  With every step and every echo, Matteo becomes more sure. Becomes more certain that if he takes the plunge, if he drags himself out of his waterlogged existence, if he lets himself risk it, he will be met halfway.  It’s not a question now. But he plays along, lets David spin it out. Lets himself experience something in real time. It’s a game he wants to win, so he presses forward, tries to startle David.

Instead, there are soft lips on his own and everything actually stops.  For one tiny second, time doesn’t mean anything. David pulls back, rests his forehead on Matteo’s, making his heart pound and his breath exhale in a rush.  And maybe … just maybe Matteo can  _ start _ breathing again here and now.  David’s playful, “I won,” makes Matteo smile, the relief lightening his heart, and time starts again.

Matteo may ask for a rematch, but he’s not playing anymore.  He’s breathing. Finally. Properly. For the first time, there is no game.  There is no water. There’s just David. And Matteo. And none of it matters anymore when he lets himself cup David’s head and lets himself kiss the boy.  Lets himself live.

In a broken and abandoned place, bathed in light, a broken and abandoned boy starts to breathe again.


	2. David

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't mean to do this, but my brain kept trying to suggest what David's side of this might look like. And who am I to argue with my brain? So, here it is: the same thing but from David's perspective.

David’s not sure what impulse had led him to bringing Matteo  _ here, _ of all places.  It has been a dream for him to come here, though he’s never lived close enough.  Until now. And never had anyone to want to come with. Until now. So it’s not a lie when he says he’s always wanted to come here, but there’s a part of the truth missing.  Being alone, that’s second nature to David. He’s never been one to be scared of being in his own head, not even when his head is filled with messages of self hatred. He can easily shut those down with exercise and adrenaline.  

Exploring the darkened nooks and crannies of his surroundings is one of his favorite things to do, looking more deeply at something no-one else seems to enjoy.  Using his body in a way that makes it useful and not a burden. Seeing the way a city can transform itself, the way the unwanted and undesired can become beautiful in the right light and through the right eyes.  

What’s new is this desire to do it with someone else.  For the first time in a long while, David actually  _ wants _ someone else to be there alongside him.  But he can’t tell Matteo  _ that, _ not when there’s no certainty that Matteo will ever accept all of who David is.  Not when Matteo could run at any moment. Matteo is so brave, so open about who he is and what’s bothering him.  He’d run, surely, if David were ever to open the floodgates on his own problems. So David talks and talks but doesn’t say much.  It’s refreshing, in a way, that Matteo doesn’t feel the need to talk right now. Too often when he does talk it’s like a dam busting and his hurt and angry feelings rush out almost unbidden.  Too often, his pain is all too visible. Too often, his agony reflects the way David feels like his wings are clipped and he can’t launch himself into his true future.

Today, though, there’s not much talking at all.  Today, Matteo’s face does all the talking for him.  David isn’t explaining why they came here, but if he did he’d explain how it’s important to him.  How it symbolises his fears and worries. How a picture of it inspired him and made him appreciate the beauty that can be found in unlikely and unusual places.  How it makes him want to soar. David can’t fly; his body is too pedestrian, too earth-bound for that. But when he’s in a strange otherworldly place like this one, caught in a moment of history, he sometimes thinks he knows something of what flying could be like.

Matteo isn’t asking any of that anyway.  Matteo silently gets it, silently accepts everything.  He’s playful and silly, smiling and cheerful. Rubbing his hands on David’s clothes, kicking him, whistling into an echo.  He’s here and present. He’s with David in a way a lot of people often aren’t a lot of the time. 

David hadn’t really had a plan, as such, when he came here, but he did know what he  _ wanted. _  What he’s wanted since they were interrupted last week.  Another point in favor of this place is that there’s no flatmate to interrupt.  Here, there is no rubble from a mundane life around them. Nothing to intrude and remind them of all the reasons why they shouldn’t.  Here, there’s promise, there’s wide open spaces. There’s a recognition that something can be lost for a long time and be reclaimed. There’s a sense that something new can come of something old.  Here there’s all the reasons why they should.

Here, they’re alone.  

“We’re underwater right now,”  David says, trying to gauge the moment.  Trying to work out when he should do what he’s been wanting to do for what seems like such a long time, even if it’s only been a few brief weeks.  Matteo’s dumb swimming motions make him laugh, give him the courage to continue. Because it seems like Matteo can feel it too, the tension. The promise.  The inevitability of a continuation. “That means we can’t breathe actually.” 

Not that David actually wants to breathe right now.  If he breathes, this could all disappear with the soft rush of air.  Matteo nods, his smile enigmatic. It seems to say he wants this too, but David tests the water anyway, makes it a game.  If it’s a game, he can’t get hurt. If it’s a game, he can win. “I won,” he’d said before, to see if Matteo would react. There was a flash then, a tiny moment of a challenge accepted, a rueful acknowledgement of a game lost.  So if this is just a game too then it’s all easy.

“I bet I can hold my breath longer than you.”

David takes a breath, holds still.  Looks Matteo in the eyes. Mirroring him, Matteo sucks his breath in a beat or two later, like it’s  _ more _ somehow.  Like this isn’t just a silly game in fake water.  Like he knows what this is about. So when David moves closer, there’s no worry at all.  Matteo’s face is saying so much. He’s still silly and playful, trying to scare David into letting his breath out.  Trying to pretend he’s still in the game. It doesn’t work.

David takes the leap, kisses the boy.  

Matteo’s breath exhales on a shudder and David laughs, pressing his forehead to Matteo’s.

“I won,” he says, as if it’s still a game (it’s not).

“Rematch,” Matteo says, as if he’s still playing too (he’s not).

Breaths are drawn in again, as if they still care (they don’t).

Matteo moves then, and David feels the shift as the atmosphere changes around them.  Matteo’s eyes slide from sparkling amusement to serious attention. His body presses forward and he stares, intent.  David can’t breathe, for real, for too many long moments. Then there’s a hand on his neck and he’s being pulled into a kiss.  His too-grounded, too-pedestrian body tries to take flight, his heart giddy and his chest light.

_ He wants it too _ .  On repeat through David’s brain.   _ It’s not a game; he wants it too. _

It’s impossible now to stop smiling, not even while he tries to savor the moment.  This boy, this closed off boy who’s somehow been open to David, has opened up even more.  His kisses are soft, delicate. They light up every part of David, make him feel seen and wanted.  Cherished. And David finally feels like he’s not alone. For this one sparkling shimmer of time, he’s with someone else.  Someone who wants to be here too.

His hands are on Matteo’s face and his heart is in Matteo’s chest.  The shell of the building around them has fulfilled its promise, and David would let himself drown here inside Matteo.  Let himself enjoy the breathless sensation, if he could. But the word intrudes, in the form of a dog and a man. An interruption, which had seemed impossible and should make David pause and consider, tries to stem the flow of joy.  But it can’t. Because for once, David feels like he can have it all. For once, he thinks he could probably escape his body and fly.


End file.
